After crashing on Peter's couch for the night, I headed back south to NYC. On the way back I stopped by Trustom Pond for a quick walk with the digital camera. The trees devoid of leaves reminded me of the veins in one's eyeballs. Tree branches looked like waving arms reaching out towards the grey sky. Yards away from the pond, an unfamiliar sound beckoned me closer. It was the ice shifting and cracking on the shallow water. It reverberated otherworldly music, something organic like whale songs. I stood just there listening and taking it in. I realized my friend's appreciation for HP Lovecraft's and Cthulhu could be strongly influenced by his environment.

I have to take more of these trips out of the bustling city. I took a deep breath and headed back down the trail.

The car was coated with road salt from the recent snow and I took it in for wash in the Bronx. I tipped the crew, then drove over the 3rd Ave. bridge back into East Harlem.